Queen of This Realm - Plaidy Jean - Страница 17

I left her and sent Jane Grey to her. Then I conveyed the message to Kat and told her that the Queen wished to see her.

Kat came back to me, red-faced and in a mood of depression.

“What has happened to my lady?” she asked. “She has never spoken to me thus before. She accused me of not taking good care of you. She said I have allowed you to behave with levity and in a manner unbecoming to a princess and that I have neglected my duty. We are to leave immediately, as soon as we can be ready to depart. What does it mean?”

“You may well ask,” I said angrily. “You know the Admiral has shown some fondness for me.”

“Who does not know that? Coming into your bedchamber indeed! So that is it!”

“Yes,” I said, “that is it. The Queen came into the little chamber and found me in his arms.”

Kat's mouth fell open and she regarded me with horror.

“Don't stare at me like that!” I shouted. “You know… You encouraged him.”

“Oh no, my lady. I—didn't want it to get to that!”

“Go away, Kat,” I said, and as I turned my head I saw Thomas Parry standing in the room. Unable to curb his curiosity he had come to see why the Dowager Queen had sent for Kat.

“Go away, both of you!” I cried.

They went out and I put my hands to my throbbing head and wept.

I FELT BETTER at Cheshunt but I was wondering all the time what was happening at Sudeley Castle where my stepmother had gone to await the birth of her child. The Admiral was with her. I wondered what he had told her about that encounter with me, how he had explained the lover-like embrace? I had no doubt that he would have done his plausible best to talk himself out of a distressing situation; but somehow I did not believe that even he would be able to do it this time.

Being Katharine Parr she would not upbraid him publicly and would doubtless try to give the impression that all was well with them. She was not going to give Anne Stanhope the chance of rejoicing in her humiliation. There was something else too. In making advances to me, Thomas was not only committing a moral offense; in view of my position his actions could be a crime against the State. Katharine would be well aware of that. She loved him truly, I believed, and whatever sins he committed she would never place him…or me for that matter…in danger.

I tried to imagine what their lives would be like at Sudeley Castle. At least, I thought, if she is thoroughly disillusioned with her husband, she has the child, and I knew how desperately she had always wanted to have a child of her own. I prayed that she would have a successful confinement and that the child would bring her that joy which Thomas and I with our reckless behavior had snatched from her.

I began to feel a little easier. I was beginning to see what a lucky escape I had had, and lying in my bed night after night I warned myself that never again must I permit myself to indulge in such folly just for the sake of temporary sensations of pleasure. I made that vow to myself then.

The sad death of my tutor William Grindal took my mind off my stepmother for a time. I had been fond of him and he had been such a good mentor to me; but to my great joy Roger Ascham begged for the post and his request was granted. He was so delighted with me. He told me that my French and Italian were as good as my English; and that if I could not converse quite as well in Greek as I could in Latin, that too would come with practice. We read all of Cicero together and a great deal of Livy, and each morning we would spend some hours studying the Greek Testament and Sophocles. I could scarcely wait to get to my books, and it was as it had been when Edward, Jane Grey and I had vied with each other over our lessons. Moreover Master Ascham had a love of music which rivaled my own so this was an additional joy. I discovered to my gratification that he said he had never known such learning in a person of my age and that it was one of the greatest pleasures he could ever know to instruct me.

So, gradually, I began to think less of what was happening to the Queen and the Admiral. Lessons with Roger Ascham, and lighter moments with my beloved Kat, helped time begin to pass tolerably well.

August was turning toward September and I was again thinking of Katharine. This was the time when the child should be born.

“We must have news soon,” I said to Kat.

I was right. A few days later we had a visitor at Cheshunt. It was a servant of the Admiral whom I remembered as Edward. I saw him coming and hurried down to the hall to hear what he had come to tell, and I knew at once from his melancholy countenance that it was not good.

“Oh Edward,” I cried. “How is my lady? What of the child?”

“The Queen gave birth to a fair daughter,” he said. “My lady Elizabeth, I have grievous news of the Queen.”

“She is dead,” I said slowly.

He nodded. “My lord is a sorrowful man.”

“Oh Edward,” I said, weeping, “not the good Queen my friend. How was it? I pray and trust she did not suffer.”

“She suffered greatly, my lady. But the child is well. We thought that my lady's joy in the child would restore her quickly to health. But seven days later… that was the end.”

I could not speak. I could only remember that the last time I had seen her, she had ordered me to leave her house. I was overcome with sorrow and remorse. Sorrow for my loss in her whom I had loved, remorse that I had given her cause for grief.

I bade the servants look after Edward and I went to my room. I pulled the curtains about my bed and lay down with a heavy heart.

SOON I HEARD the whole story from Kat. She had managed to prize it from Edward, the messenger. I was shaken with further remorse, and into my sorrow for the death of my stepmother there crept a certain uneasiness akin to fear.

“The Admiral was with her at the end,” said Kat. “He was most tender and loving and did all he could to make the Queen comfortable. And when the child was born…a girl… and you know how he wanted a boy, and indeed astrologers had all told him that he would have a boy…he showed no anger and declared that though he had prayed for a boy, now that he had this girl she was exactly what he had wanted. The Queen was grievously ill, but it was thought that now she had her child she would get better quickly. But she did not. She wandered in her mind. Lady Tyrwhit was with her and she saw and heard it all. The Queen seemed to have lost her love for the Admiral and she cried out to Lady Tyrwhit, ‘I am most unhappy because those whom I have loved love me not. They mock at me. They laugh at my love. They wait for my death so that they may be with others. The more good I do to them, the less good they do to me.'”

I shivered. “Did she really say that to Lady Tyrwhit?”

“She did indeed, my lady. There were witnesses. The Admiral was quite put out and said she wandered in her mind. He sat on the bed beside her but she shrank from him as though she feared he might do her some harm. ‘I shall die,’ said the Queen. ‘I have no wish to live.’ The Admiral talked of their child, but she turned away from him.”

“I do not believe this, Kat,” I said. “She loved him dearly.”

“That was before…”

“Be silent, Kat.”

“Yes, my lady,” said Kat meekly.

After a while she went on: “My lady, should you not write a letter of condolence to my lord Admiral?”

“Do you think he needs condolence, Kat?”

“It is the custom and it would show correctness.”

I could not shut out of my mind the thought of him as he had looked at me in the chamber. And his wife Katharine had seen that! What had those weeks been like while she waited for the birth of her child, the child of her faithless husband? Condolence? How much had he ever really cared for Katharine Parr?

“No,” I said firmly. “I will write no letter of condolence because I do not think he needs it.”